


i almost fell into that hole in your life (five times coulson didn't meet skye)

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, F/M, SHIELD feelings, Skye and SHIELD are meant to be, Skye fixes the MCU one Coulson at a time, Unresolved Sexual Tension, if you don't like Skye this fic will make little sense, playing with the canon, this is kind of a weird premise i admit it, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 20:51:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1442437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't matter when or how they meet, she always brings about change.</p><p>It doesn't matter how their story begins, the ending is always the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i almost fell into that hole in your life (five times coulson didn't meet skye)

**Author's Note:**

> title and headers from goo goo dolls song because i don't even know.

**1\. you talk about the world like it's some place you've been**

When he told Director Fury he needed some lighter work after what had just happened in New Mexico he wasn't asking for something so banal. It's not that Coulson thinks the work they do in the Sandbox is not important – it's that he doesn't want to spend a week interviewing villains and threats to asses their progress.

There's only villains and threats. Sometimes victims. Unlike the Fridge, full of criminals and _petty_ criminals, there are people in here who can't control their powers. People without malice. He has just spent the whole morning doing just that, interviewing them, assessing their progress, always the same set of standardized questions, and composing his mental report on the conditions of the place.

By the time he comes to face the girl he feels more burnt out with SHIELD than when he requested this task. And he's seen people who have spent a long time inside this place but he has never met anyone who had spent their whole lives inside one of its black boxes.

The girl, when he comes in to see her, is not what you expect of somebody who has spent twenty years in (pseudo, scientifically-controlled, humane and benevolent) imprisonment. She just looks like a girl, one Coulson might meet on the street.

Except for that thing she does where she is adjusting her bracelets and rings all the time, not nervously but constantly.

“They let me watch a lot of movies,” she says, sensing he needs an explanation. “Read a lot of books. Use the computer. And well, I talk to a lot of people, doctors and therapists, the people who keep an eye on me. I had teachers until I was fifteen – I was in another facility then, more like a boarding school than this. I spoke to people. I'm not a total shut-in, you know.”

Coulson thinks, _that's exactly what you are_.

It's not just her unexpected functionality, even though there are cracks. It's her attitude. Coulson would describe her as _sunny_ right now, which makes no sense whatsoever. Maybe she is just happy to have someone to talk to, someone new, he thinks, and something ugly makes its way to his throat.

“Skye?”

She smirks. “They let me pick my name, when they really couldn't call me _File 4889_ anymore. Nobody bothered telling them that six year olds tend to like really stupid names. I guess I'm stuck with it now.”

“Nothing wrong with that name,” he comments, distractedly, going over her file once more.

“Gee, thanks, sir,” she says.

Coulson looks up. This is not what he should be doing at all. Just because he felt a bit tired after his last mission – not only physically, that he can deal with; he had felt overwhelmed, the world had changed from one day to the next and all bets are off about what's going to happen. Next time there might not be a Thor to save everybody from a force so much greater than anything they can come up with to protect themselves. Coulson doesn't lack imagination and even he has no idea how they, humanity as a whole and the organization in particular, are going to react to these events.

Not that he felt completely justified when, after stealing Foster's and Selvig's work, he offered them funding for further research, all under the blessing of SHIELD – that is, Coulson was _poaching_ them, there's no way around it.

And yet that had been better than this. Better than sitting across a table from a strange, unfortunate girl SHIELD has held captive for the duration of her entire life. He's read the file, but the story it tells makes little sense, when he looks into those dark, alert eyes. But stories of murder and destruction very seldom have the face you expect. Why are you here? He asks himself.

"Why are you here, Skye?"

"I've always been here."

"And why is that? Do you think you _should_ be here?"

These are textbook questions to ask those detained in the Sandbox, but Coulson finds himself listening to them for the first time today, finds himself meaning it.

"You read my file, right? So you know. I killed my family, my whole village. I killed a whole SHIELD squad."

She doesn't sound callous or casual. She doesn't sound regretful, not exactly. Just profoundly sad, and resigned. She sounds like she's in mourning. It's instantly painful to him, going from the brightness in that voice when he came in, to _this_.

"You were just a newborn then," he points out.

She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter. I'm exactly where I should be."

“Guarded twenty-four hours a day by men with guns?”

“No. Not that. I'm not dangerous now. I mean, I know why I have to be here, but I don't get all the other stuff, all the fuss.”

He shifts through the pages, avoiding the eyes that fix so intensely on him. “Have you exhibited any sign of special capacities since you were a baby?”

“Nothing. I'm always sorry to disappoint the doctors, when they come in every week to test me.”

“It's a lot of attention for a young girl who hasn't hurt anyone in twenty years.”

She leans over the table, like she wanted to say something to Coulson is confidence, and he leans into his gesture as well, accepting whatever she wants to tell him.

"Personally, I think SHIELD is wasting a lot of money better spent elsewhere. I mean, look at what just happened in Puente Antiguo. The world is full of weird stuff, and you guys need all those resources."

"They told you about that?" he asks, confused. Even if they let her watch the news SHIELD has just covered up most of the specifics.

"Of course they haven't told me, duh. But they don't know how good with computers I am." She makes a pleading face. "Keep my secret?"

And because he doesn't know why the girl should trust him with it – maybe she just wants someone to tell stuff to, and she is not in her right mind to know what she's doing – Coulson decides he will keep it for her. 

 

+

 

"We are sticking young girls inside a box for twenty years now? Is that how we operate?" he asks Fury.

"You know what the girl is." He says it like it's Skye's fault.

"An 084. I never heard of a person being one before."

"There's no one else. Just the girl."

"Have you ever been to see her?"

There are lines you don't cross with Fury, no matter how close you think the relationship is. And Coulson always knows where the lines are drawn, he knows the relationship is never as close as you suspect it is.

"What are you trying to say, Agent Coulson?" Fury asks.

He doesn't know, it's just a raw feeling at this point. "It doesn't feel right. This is not something SHIELD should be doing."

"That kind of thing never bothered you before," the Director points out.

He can't argue with that.

 

+

 

He goes to visit her again.

"Do you have more questions for me?" she asks, excessively cheerful, faking part of it and he is not sure she even realizes. "Agent Coulson. Mmm, that's not cool. Can I call you _Phil_?"

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Got it. So. Hit me with it."

"I haven't come to ask you more questions, Skye," he tells her. "I just thought you might want someone to talk to."

The way she smiles at him then is enough to convince Coulson.

 

+

 

He's not one to go around cashing in favors he's owned; in this case it's almost too easy, though, because Natasha always worries about being in debt with her fellow agents.

"I don't want to go against anyone's orders," he explains, because he knows Natasha would probably rather die (and most certainly kill) before opposing Fury; Coulson knows the weight of that particular debt. "I just want to find out the truth."

Natasha looks at him with that particular mix of suspicion and condescension. She's a pain in the ass, but then again Coulson knows that better than most. 

"You've never questioned Fury's orders like this before,” she says. “Why has this business in the Sandbox gotten to you so much?"

"I guess I have a hard time believing a girl like that could have done the things they said."

"Appearances are misleading, Coulson, you're not a fresh-faced recruit, this is basic. Would you guess looking at me, that I've done the things I've done?"

"Yes, completely," he deadpans and Natasha laughs. "Look, I'm just asking that you meet the girl. You're good at this, Natasha, help me asses this situation."

He doesn't tell her: you've been there before. He doesn't tell her: we stuck you in a cage for a while, too. He doesn't say: you were among the damaged yourself, that's why.

But Natasha is a lot smarter than he is, she probably knows this is what his request means anyway.

She rolls her eyes. "Fine, Coulson, I'll see what I can do."

 

+

 

“I had some of my people investigating your case.”

“My case? What's that? What's there to investigate?”

“A lot, apparently.”

He tells her. The whole story. He tells it in one go because he is not sure he can go through it otherwise, or rather he is not sure she can go through it, or if she should. The pressing desire to avoid her glance, because how do you start to make up for something like this. They got it all backwards. They haven't just been unfair with an innocent girl, they have betrayed the memory of those who gave their lives to make sure she was safe.

Well, _she is_ safe. But this is not the kind of safe anyone should live or die for.

“You didn't kill those people, Skye. You didn't kill your family. They died to protect you.”

“What does that mean?” she asks.

“It means SHIELD got it all wrong,” he tells her. “It means I'm getting you out of here.”

 

+

 

She said she was very intrigued by this Starbucks thing, how that works in real life rather than in tv shows, so first thing after she is released is Coulson takes her out for a cup of coffee.

The psychiatrists at the Sandbox have been acclimating her to regular contact with people for a couple of weeks now, gradually. She still looks around like a kid in a candy store, Coulson thinks. He also thinks he has to find newer similes. He's in a good mood today, he can't help it.

She's easily distracted by any noise, turning around at every moment to study the faces of the customers who just walked in. Drinking in those faces, marvelling in their variety. The smells, too, transfix her. She puts too much hazelnut in her coffee, makes a face, decides to buy a second drink. Coulson offers to do it for her but Skye refuses him, prefers to start doing these ordinary, everyday things on her own.

It's hard to have a conversation like this but Coulson is just happy to watch her, wide-eyed and delighted, when a girl in glasses bumps into her and apologizes, casual human contact and Skye looks like she might start to sing a musical number. It feels good to be here in a way few things having to do with his job have felt lately. Much better than trying to confiscate Jane Foster's research.

All things considered, this being the first time Skye has to deal with crowds, it doesn't go too bad. 

When she calms down a bit he thinks she might be ready to hear him out.

"I'm assembling a team," he starts.

"Sounds exciting."

He watches her attack a muffin with little ceremony. Perhaps he should just leave her alone. But he has learned something, between New Mexico and this. Between the world changing in humongous ways, and winning this the smallest battle.

"It's not anything– it's not anything big,” he tells her, feeling shy all of the sudden. Coulson has never felt shy in his life. “And I know right now the only thing you want is to have an ordinary life. Well, as ordinary as circumstances can allow. You're still our responsibility."

"Yes, I know the deal. I have to have a tracer on me at all times and report for medical check ups every three months. And SHIELD will give me a new identity, help me find a job."

"But other than that, I guess you just want to do this kind of stuff: sit in a cafe and watch the world pass by. Get to know the world."

"What are you trying to say?" she presses.

"I'm trying to say that if you ever get tired of ordinary, and I understand if you don't even want to consider this offer, there's always room in my team for you. I don't know how well we're going to fit together but right now I'm in a position to do some good. If you want to be a part of that –"

She lies back on her chair, shrugs awkwardly. "I don't know. I've been hearing so much about this thing where I have to grow out my bangs before committing to anything important."

"I understand."

"I'm teasing, of course I want to be a part of your team. Are you kidding? Weeks ago I was stuck in a black box _for the rest of my life_. And now I'm here and you think there's any chance I'd say _no_?"

Something about that pierces him. He couldn't stand if all there was here, between them, was gratitude.

"Listen to me, Skye. You don't owe me anything."

"I know,” he replies quickly. “This is not about that. Again, you took me out of a dark cage I spent twenty years in. If you plan on doing more of that stuff... how can I not want to be a part of that? If this is the job you do."

 _It's not_ , he thinks but he silently promises himself and Skye from now on it's going to be.

"So," she says. "If you think you could use my help. I'm in, A.C."

" _A.C._?"

"Sounds cool, doesn't it?"

"What's wrong with _Agent Coulson_?"

"Oh, there's definitely nothing wrong with Agent Coulson as far as I'm concerned," she says pointedly.

He laughs.

 

 

**2\. you always cried coincidence, while I drew parallel**

This is turning out to be such a bust that he starts wishing he had left the drill to Natasha and had gone himself to speak with Doctor Banner instead. Everything is better than standing around here like an idiot, Stark's security systems cutting him off the building. What the hell is the man even doing? There are such things as emergencies and it's not like this is a social call, if the genius bothered to pick up the phone he'd find out.

"What are you doing trying the garage? I thought you SHIELD guys used the front door," an amused voice says behind him.

He turns around and there's a girl in front of him, in a red dress, casually leaning into the entrance to the garage of the Stark Tower. Coulson sizes her up in one glance: cheap clothes and latest generation smart phone in her hand. What's the story here? But he has no time for that.

"How do you know I'm SHIELD?" 

The girl smirks: "Please, I'm no amateur. All you guys wear the same suit."

He instinctively looks down at his clothes. He shakes his head, decides it's dangerous to engage with disturbed people on the street, anyway. It's not like he hasn't had to deal with Tony Stark's fangirls before.

He tries to call up again.

"I'm sorry, Agent, but Mr Stark is not home at the moment."

"Don't insult my intelligence, Jarvis. You think we don't know when _Iron Man_ is home?" There's a silence on the line and then – nothing. Coulson turns to the strange girl: "He hung up on me. Can you believe...?"

He tries to use his SHIELD access code. Nothing. Is Jarvis seriously fucking with him? Coulson hasn't had the greatest of weeks (he's a professional, of course, but breaking up with your girlfriend has never done anything for your general mood, even if that has to take a back seat to the death of dozens of your colleagues and the massive destruction of SHIELD property) and a snarky AI is more than he can deal with right now; also because at some point after this he has to go pick up Captain Rogers and that's a whole other level of pressure on its own.

"Trying to override the security protocol?" the girl asks. Coulson frowns, he had all but forgotten about her. "Good luck. They did a new implementation just this morning. You know, because the building is now self-sustaining. Did you see when they switched on the lights just now? It was pretty cool. Like Christmas."

"Implementation." He raises an enquiring eyebrow.

"I keep an eye on their network security."

"Are you an employee here?" Coulson asks, giving the girl another glance. He wouldn't put it past Stark, this particular brand of mistake.

She looks offended by the idea. "I'm _a hacker_."

"What?"

"I was making sure Iron Man didn't accidentally left the specs to War Machine open for the world to see when he took the Tower off the grid. That happens, because when you switch to a whole different framework... and I can tell you're super into this. Short story: no, he's actually pretty careful with that. I mean, I could open this door for you right now, but the private network where he keeps the suit schematics, forget it."

"You could open this door for me right now?"

"Sure, and give you the code to the private elevator to the penthouse, no problem."

He walks up to her, taking a closer look. "Who are you again?"

She grins and offers her hand.

"I'm Skye. From The Rising Tide. You might have–"

Coulson growls.

"Oh _please_. I thought you were just a fangirl or an old-fashioned stalker. This is much worse. You are just looking for a chance to grab my phone and upload all of SHIELD's secrets to your website."

"Hey. I'm offering to help you here... sir. I'm a black hat, but I could easily be convinced to turn white."

That sounds an awful lot like she's asking for a job. Having a member of the Rising Tide in their ranks, now that'd be something, much more shocking an event, he swears, than the Tesseract opening a portal to another dimension and letting a murderous Asgardian prince slip in.

"What's your exploit?" he asks.

"You do my lingo, nice. There's no exploit. You look pretty anxious, and when the scary men in dark suits start to get anxious, well... Tony Stark should at least be picking up the phone.”

She reaches out and takes the phone from her hands and gets to work on it. Coulson starts to protest but she raises one finger, shushing him. For some reason he lets her do her thing.

“All set up,” she eventually says. “When you come across a panel you can't open just press 3 in here and you should be fine, I wrote the code just half an hour ago. Except if you come across a lab – I can't get you inside the labs. But this'll make Iron Man pick up the phone, at least.”

She returns the phone to him.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because you looked like you were having a stroke when Stark's AI refused to let you in, and I think you're too young for a stroke,” she replies. Coulson thinks she might be flirting. Then, more honestly: “And I have my motives for wanting to be in the good graces of SHIELD.”

“Which are?”

“I might want you to help me with something, someday in the future.”

The words are as vague as they get but her tone and the decided look on her face are very, very precise.

Coulson doesn't have time for this, but he is beginning to wish he did.

He tries her little program on the panel to the garage. For a moment nothing happens and Coulson thinks he's been had, feels inexplicable disappointment at the idea. Then – the screen flashes, _SECURITY PROTOCOL OVERRIDEN_. He widens his eyes at the girl.

“What? You thought I was bluffing? I am offended, Phillip,” she says. Coulson narrows his eyes at her. “Okay, I took a peek at your file. I had to make sure this mission was in competent hands.”

He looks at the open door again.

“You are good,” he says, sounding like he is appalled by it.

She crosses her arms in front of her chest, lifting her shoulders in a proud stance. She smirks, smug as anything he's seen, and yet the smugness feels a bit thin: “I'm better.”

He takes another look at her. Nothing about her makes much sense.

“You don't look like a Rising Tide hacker,” he says.

“Is that an insult?”

“Not at all.”

Her suspicion settles on an easy smile, more open than it's been during their whole conversation.

"Are you flirting with me?" she asks.

"Not at all." 

 

+

 

“Security breach!” Tony Stark squeaks.

Coulson just thinks, _You have no idea_.

 

+

 

He's dead and then he isn't.

He wakes up and either the world has changed or he has.

 

+

 

“That's all?” he asks.

“That's all you should need,” Maria Hill says, as they finish reviewing the candidates.

Coulson looks at the parameters. A pilot. An specialist. An engineer. A biochemist. Sounds like a solid hand, surely more than enough to take care of such a ride. And yet – 

“I feel like something is missing.”

Hill is looking at him with a heavy expression, more than just concern, she's been doing that ever since he came back from Tahiti. She might think he doesn't notice it, because she does it when he is not looking, but he notices.

“I need someone on comms,” he says.

“Is that necessary? That's a secondary skill, anyone of your other–“

“No. I need someone quick on comms, someone good with computers. More than good. I need better.”

“Okay,” she says, hesitating. “I'll draw up a short list for you.”

Something occurs to him. Something he had forgotten. Like a word on the tip of his tongue. Coulson doesn't know why, and maybe coming back from the brink of death has been detrimental to his sanity, but suddenly it seems not just like a great idea, but like somehow it's the only sensible path.

“Can you get me our file on The Rising Tide?”

“The Rising Ride?” Hill fixes him a glance and then she realizes, because they know each other very well. “You have to be kidding.”

“Haven't you heard of black hats turning into white hats... or something like that?”

“I have and... that doesn't apply to this situation at all,” she comments.

“I have a gut feeling.”

“Since when do you have any of those, Coulson?”

“ _Maria_.”

She shrugs. “It's you plane.”

“Yes, it is.”

 

 

**3\. I won't let you fall until you tell me so**

They need a better name for this. A little less like – like they are going to do your taxes and more like they are actually trying to help those with abilities. The Index Asset Evaluation and Intake process is not his favorite part of the job, even though he knows he is quite good at it. But, historically it hasn't been all that fun for him.

Mostly they need a better name, like the Welcoming Committee or something along those lines.

This time is a bit more complex than usual. He doesn't know if the subject in question has powers or not. All he knows is that the subject is an 084, and object of unknown origin. Except it's not an object at all; it's a young girl who had no idea of her heritage until now.

He is in the back of the SUV with her, being driven by one of the local SHIELD agents to the Bus.

“I swear,” she is pleading with him, “I didn't plan on doing anything with the information on the accounts, I just wanted to prove their firewall –“

“This is not about you hacking into some bank.”

“No? I don't understand. Have I done something wrong?”

“As far as SHIELD is concerned, no.”

“Then... why am I being kidnapped?”

There's something funny in the way she says that, like being kidnapped is such a quaint adventure. Coulson relaxes. He is glad he decided not to handcuff her; it's clear she's not dangerous, but it's also clear she is not going to resist. Most of all he is glad of his decision not to bring May along for this.

“Do you have a family, Skye?” he asks, knowing she doesn't.

“I grew up in an orphanage.”

“In fact you don't know much about where you come from.”

He watches her narrow her eyes slightly. “Not much. Or... at all.”

“Maybe SHIELD can help.”

“What do you mean?”

“You're an 084, Skye.”

“What's that?”

“An object of unknown origin,” he spouts the party line. Suddenly he doesn't feel so good about it, calling this girl an _object_.

“Unknown? You mean you don't really know much about me.”

“Basically. But what it means is that you are the kind of person SHIELD is interested in helping.”

He's lying. SHIELD is not interested in helping anyone. Coulson always knew this and yet right now it feels like he's just found out.

Skye is quiet for a little while. He lets her be.

“What's up with that name, anyway?” she eventually asks.

“What name?”

“ _SHIELD_.

“Strategic Homeland Intervention –“

“No, I know, I heard you the first time.”

“Well, during the Second World –“

He hears the shots fired at them and then, in an exquisitely beautiful moment the world around them turns to broken glass. Coulson instinctively reaches for the girl.

 

+

 

He feels dizzy. He realizes how much blood he's lost as he leans against the wall of the... where are they, a warehouse? He vaguely remembers dragging himself here, the girl's arms around his waist for support.

She's made a tourniquet with the torn fabric of her vest.

"Just. Stay with me, okay? I've already seen a man die today and, as far as being kidnapped by a shadow governmental organization goes, at least you've got style."

"I'm sorry,” Coulson says, realizing the trouble they are in. “I think I've put you in danger."

There are few things as priceless as an 084 in this world. And this one in particular had a history of being pursued relentlessly. Death follows her, and she doesn't even know. He had been naïve, thinking he could move the girl without those who would harm her finding out.

“We have to leave, they will find us here.”

“You can't move,” she tells him, wrapping her fingers around his arm, trying to add more pressure to the wound. 

He remembers the shot that killed their driver. He remembers throwing his body over Skye's to protect her. He remembers they were trying to get out of the car when the bullet went through his arm. 

She is right. There's no way he can try to stand up without bleeding to death all over the place.

It's okay, he thinks, he's always been okay about losing his life in action. And well, this wouldn't exactly be the first time. It's okay and then it isn't. Suddenly he doesn't feel fine about it. What a botched job he would have made of it, if he died here.

But of course, there's the matter of the girl.

“Then, Skye, listen to me, you have to go. Run. Hide somewhere nearby, I'll stall them. My team is on their way to us.”

“Are you crazy? I'm not leaving you here.”

“Don't be foolish.”

“That's what you got wrong, Agent. If you had bothered to get to know me before kidnapping me you'd know I have a long history of being foolish, so.”

He grits his teeth. He's not about to let an innocent girl die because of a miscalculation.

“Skye...”

“What's that sound?” she asks, interrupting. He would recognize that sound everywhere. It's the sound of a plan landing vertically.

It's the cavalry, he thinks, but of course he doesn't say it.

“Help,” he replies.

 

+

 

He brings her a bottle of water. She's sitting on the bed they've put in their holding cell. She needs to be contained for now, but there's no need for her to be uncomfortable.

“How's the arm?” 

“Just a scratch,” he says, humorously.

“Yeah, _right_.”

He sits by her side.

“What's going to happen to me now?” she asks.

“We're taking you to the Sandbox. You'll take some tests there.”

“Because you think I'm something strange.”

“Because we don't know.”

“You could just ask me, weirdo. I've never noticed anything strange about myself. I'm just your regular happy orphan hacker.”

“I've done this before,” he explains. “Some people are in complete denial there's anything out of the ordinary with them. Many gifted don't realize what they are until we talk to them.”

“ _Gifted_?”

“People with powers. SHIELD finds them and they are put in the Index, so we can protect them more effectively.”

Or study them, or contain them, or – reduce them. Coulson doesn't want to be thinking about that right now, sitting with Skye.

“What happens to the people in the Index?” she asks him

“It depends. Most of them lead ordinary lives, as long as they learn to control their powers. Some decide to stick with SHIELD, even become agents.”

“They can become SHIELD agents?” He can feel the animation in her voice.

“Why? Is this something you'd be interested in? After my display of incompetence on the line of fire this afternoon?”

She looks at him like he's just said the most stupid thing she's ever heard. “You put your body between me and danger without a second thought. If I could ever be like that... of course I'd want to be like that.”

He touches his fingers to the bandage on his arm.

“Well, you could have let me bleed to death and you didn't. So it's a start.”

Yes. It's a start.

 

 

**4\. and the black and white world never fades to grey**

She struggles against the handcuffs.

“You don't have to be like this,” she says. “I wasn't trying to do any damage.”

“Then why were you in our encrypted lines?” Coulson asks.

“I told you a million times. I was trying to get your attention.”

“ _Congratulations_.”

“Don't be such an ass.”

“I don't think you are in a position to demand that I am one way or another.” A glance over her bound hands.

“You are an ass. Maybe I should have brought this to someone else.”

Coulson draws a breath. The girl _is_ getting to him, but that's not productive to anyone.

“Okay, let's say I believe you. You said you had some information you wanted to pass on to us. This information you want to share with us? Why haven't you uploaded to the web at large? That's your MO.”

“Because I don't want die,” she says, a bit breathlessly and for a moment Coulson wonders if she's really scared, if this more than just one of her exploits. “And I don't want to share this with SHIELD, I want to share it with _you_.”

“What do you mean?”

“I've been monitoring you, yes, that's what the Rising Tide does. And I've been in your private files, because I didn't know who I could trust with this. Once again I don't want to be killed. This is the job I'm good at, studying patterns, drawing conclusion from seemingly endless variables. It works with people, too. That's why I'm here. I've looked everywhere and you, Mister Phil Coulson, you are my safest bet."

He sits back, a blank expression on his face.

“Last time our paths crossed, virtually, your group was selling classified information _to Centipede_.”

She looks away. If Coulson didn't know better (he knows what she can do, what she can be) he'd say the shame he sees in her face is genuine.

“That was... I mean, the person who did that no longer belongs to our organization.”

“Is that meant to reassure me?”

She moves with a start, definitely pissed off now. She writhes in pain when the handcuffs hold her anger back.

“Look, I might just be a hacker who lives in her van, but I'm also a concerned citizen. And right now I'm very concerned.”

“Why don't you start by offering me more than complete vagueness?”

“You've heard about the fourteen words.”

“Of course.”

“Did you know there's a HYDRA equivalent to the fourteen words? Based on the writings of Johann Schmidt on the idea of the super human.”

“HYDRA? Wait. What are you–?”

“You didn't really believe HYDRA went under at the end of World War Two, did you. I mean, take a look at their motto.”

“You are a conspiracy theorist,” Coulson decides.

“I might be a conspiracy theorist, but that doesn't explain the fact that HYDRA's equivalent to the fourteen words, its followers' little code, has been popping up in private communications between SHIELD agents. Get my laptop, uncuff me, and I'll prove it.”

He stares at her. 

He gets up, walking towards her. He opens her handcuffs. She lets out a little pleased moan as she rubs the sensitive skin around her wrist.

“Okay. _Skye_ , was it?” She nods. “Start from the beginning.”

 

+

 

“I've never been in Washington,” she comments, drinking in the views from the glass elevator.

Coulson shakes his head at her. “You are about to tell the director of SHIELD that his organization might have been infiltrated by a fascist group from way back. Why don't we leave the sightseeing aside for now?”

Her brow furrows. 

“Have you always been an ass or is this a recent development in your personality? Because your file didn't say, and I'm curious,” she asks.

There's a pause. Skye has her back to him but he can still see her face in the glass.

“It's fine,” she adds quietly. “You can be an ass, I don't mind. You are one of the good guys.”

He looks at her, or rather at her reflection. He wants to ask her why she came to him with this. Why, of all the SHIELD agents whose files she had hacked into and studied, she decided Coulson was the one she could trust.

He is about to say something but then the elevator stops on the selected floor.

 

+

 

It's not the first time Director Fury has looked this angry at him, but it's the first time he's looked like he doesn't even appreciate his presence.

"You've tired of the plane I gave you already, that you have to go pick up strange girls off the street," he comments.

"Her name's Skye."

"And I don't live on the streets, for the record. Well, not _all the time_."

He looks at her. He hasn't, during the whole time she and Coulson had been explaining the situation.

Fury lets himself sink into his chair. There's a long, exasperated sigh that would put fear in the hearts of better men than Coulson.

“You are not telling me anything new.”

“What?”

“I mean, thank you for the details, don't get me wrong but... I've had my suspicions for some time, that an outside group was manipulating SHIELD for its own interests.”

“It's not an _outside_ thing,” Skye says.

“No.”

Coulson moves closer. “ _Director_?”

“I think it's safe to assume anyone could be working under different orders to yours.”

“Including you?” Coulson asks.

“Including every-damn-body, Agent Coulson.”

He knows it's never a good sign, when Fury puts _Agent_ in front of his name.

“I'm going to have to get to the bottom of this sooner than I would have wanted,” Fury says, passing a hand over his eyes.

“You have a plan.”

“I'm sorry, _Agent Coulson_. You're not authorized to know that.”

Skye's mouth drops open but Coulson stops her, his hand on her elbow.

He has a pretty good idea of what Fury's plan entails. It probably involves Natasha Romanoff doing the heavy lifting; it probably involves leaving everybody but Maria Hill in the dark. It probably involves future sights of death and destruction because Fury never does things if not dramatically.

“I'll be around,” he tells his boss. “In case I need to take orders.”

The Director nods.

“And Coulson... I'm going to trust that you've found a way to make sure this girl is not an enemy agent sent to stir things up.”

He and Skye look at each other. Her expression tells Coulson just how much she loves when men talk about her as if she wasn't in the room. It makes Coulson's mouth twist.

“No, actually, sir, I still don't know much about her.”

Fury gestures for them to _get the fuck out of my office_.

Before they walk through the door he has one last thing to say.

“Would you have told me?” he asks Fury. “If I hadn't come here today. Would you have trusted me with this?”

Fury doesn't have to think about it: “No. I wouldn't have.”

 

+

 

Nick Fury sends Natasha Romanoff to the Lemurian Star and the rest is history.

 

+

 

They listen to Captain America's call for an uprising from inside Maria Hill's office.

It ends and suddenly they are in the middle of a civil war.

“I should have gotten you out of here before all this started,” he tells her.

“What can I do to help?” Skye asks Maria Hill instead.

“ _No_ ,” Coulson protests, like they have a choice. They don't but that's war, he thinks, make a choice out of something that really isn't.

“You said the girl was good,” Hill says to him, then turns around to face Skye. “I am going to be running the play from a secure room upstairs. I have a line open with Rogers and Wilson. Can you make sure no one tries to block it?”

“Sure,” Skye says and Coulson watches in wonderment how fast she gets to the computer, as if she did this every day. “I mean, if I were HYDRA that's what I'd do, prevent us from speaking to each other. Of course if I were HYDRA I would have cut the lines way before Captain America went full-on Captain Picard.”

Coulson and Hill exchange a confused glance.

Skye rolls her eyes. “Let me set up an encrypted channel for Agent Coulson as well.”

“Do you want me upstairs backing-up Natasha?” he asks Hill.

“No. I want you downstairs with Agent 13. There are a lot of good, young agents there, they're going to need to be led.”

“Led to battle or led to safety?”

Maria Hill looks older than he's ever seen her; he's suddenly reminded of the short-haired, short-tempered recruit who made the organization's fastest beeline towards Fury's right side. Where did that Maria go? Coulson liked her. She says: “There's no difference at this point.”

“Okay. You go ahead.” He throws a look in the direction of Skye, obliviously working at the computer. “Give me a minute here.”

Hill nods, understanding, and squeezes Coulson's shoulder for a moment before slipping out of the room without a sound. Not for the first time Coulson thinks every moment she passes far from the field is a waste.

He goes to Skye.

“Here, take this,” he pushes a gun into the palm of her hand. She closes her fingers around it and around Coulson's hand, brushing his fingertips. The touch surprises him a bit, specially in the middle of this battle.

“I'm sorry,” she shakes her head sadly. “But I don't know how to use a gun.”

He squeezes her fingers gently. “Next time we'll have to teach you beforehand.”

“ _Next time_?”

“Skye. You might just be a hacker who lives in her van, as you said. But right now you're not, you are here with the rest of us, fighting for SHIELD's soul.”

She draws a seemingly endless breath, then nods at him. That's it, in her face, the kind of resolution Captain Rogers was banking on.

“You're not an ass,” she says.

He smiles, thinking yes, this is exactly the moment to do this. Then thinking well, maybe _it is_ exactly the moment to do this. Funny how those things work.

“I appreciate you saying that but I _have_ been an ass to you. That's going to stop.”

Coulson turns to leave.

“Hey,” she calls out.

“What?”

“Try not to get yourself killed out there,” she says. “I've read your file. You tend to do that.”

 

+

 

He's still nursing his wounds, but glad to be out again. Well, he had no idea Captain America's plan would involve ultimately tearing the Triskelion down and letting the rubble fall on the unsuspecting likes of Coulson. When he left the hospital Rogers was still out cold so maybe he shouldn't begrudge the move too much. With all the people who died – it's a miracle many more didn't. A miracle most of them live to fight another day, in whatever condition they find themselves in.

Skye, of course, had walked out of the place completely unscathed.

“There are many reasons why this is not a good idea.”

“This?” Coulson gestures towards the shooting range.

“No. _This_ ,” Skye gestures towards herself.

“Like what?”

“I never finished high school.”

“You wouldn't be the first autodidact to join SHIELD.”

She makes a _ha!_ sound.

“That's another thing. There's no more SHIELD.”

“There's still a good fight to fight.”

She scrambles for something else: “I have no respect for authority, you've seen this.”

“Too much respect for authority is much more dangerous. We've seen this, recently.”

“I'm a member of the Rising Tide. I'm clearly untrustworthy.”

“You're not,” Coulson says, simply.

The mood shifts with that. Skye becomes suddenly serious, sullen.

“Coulson, I'm not – I'm serious. This wouldn't work. It's me. I've been abandoned way too many times. I know it sounds lame but... I have real trouble believing someone might actually want me around.”

He touches her arm, running his fingers down the length of it.

“We'll work on that,” he tells her.

Skye looks out at the range, grabs her headset to get ready.

“I have to warn you beforehand,” she tells him. “I'm probably going to say _Bang!_ before pulling the trigger.”

He grins. “We'll work on that, too.”

 

 

**5\. you'd love to run home, but you know you ain't got one**

"Skye?"

He finds her in a small town in Georgia. She sizes him up in one glance, taking in the clothes the most.

"What's a suit doing here?” she asks. “I don't need to be read the SHIELD protocols again. I haven't been using my powers."

"This is not about that."

He explains. After Director Fury uploaded all of SHIELD's files into the net the Index has become a prized resource for organizations –including HYDRA– bent on exploiting those with powers. His team had come up with a list of individuals in danger and her name was at the top.

"Why isn't my handler here explaining all this?"

He presses his lips together. "Agent Avery is dead," he says. The girl's face falls. "Which is one of the clues we have to suspect there's someone behind you."

"They killed her? Because of me?"

"It's not your fault."

"But – I haven't even used my powers since I was a teenager. I'm way too scared. Why would anyone...?"

"These people don't care about that. We'd like to help you, but the next guy will want to exploit you, and the guy after that will want to dissect you."

“You don't have to oversell it, okay? A person is dead, of course I'm coming with you.”

 

+

 

Inside the Bus he sees her rubbing the crook of her elbow, where the needle had gone.

"I apologize for that. Agent Simmons doesn't get the chance to do bloodwork on a gifted very often. I appreciate your cooperation."

She shrugs, her dark hair falling, unruly, over her shoulders. "Sure, I'm all about cooperation. And the doctor was really nice about it, so. Nice ride, by the way. Am I staying long?"

"Until we eliminate the more immediate threats to your life. I assume Agent Avery already told you about the Centipede program. Eventually, when all blows over, we'll have to set you up with a new identity, somewhere safe."

"The guys in suits before you also said _safe_ the last time they moved me around, and here we are."

"You have to understand, Skye, you're not just a gifted, you're also –"

"An 084, I know." She looks down, hair in her eyes. Her voice is not just sad, it's tinged with exhaustion, like she has lived more lives than anyone on this plane. Coulson feels a wave of sympathy for the girl. He wasn't expecting that. This is meant to be a simple job.

 

+

 

She's only meant to stay for a couple of weeks.

They were meant to protect her, not assimilate her.

“The least I could do is help out a bit,” she says, like she owes them something.

Coulson lets her run comms, she's surprisingly quick to learn the trade. Only Fitz mentions her powers, only once, and Skye's deflated expression and Coulson's unforgiving glare are enough to dissuade him from ever trying it again.

“The girl is a risk,” May says, and she is not being unkind about it. Coulson knows she's grown fond of Skye to some extent. They all have.

He knows she is a risk. But what's the alternative? Throw her to the wolves. Stick her in a dark room in the Sandbox. He can do neither.

A couple of weeks turn into a month turn into two and the girl becomes not just helpful but _necessary_.

 

+

 

They have her strapped to a machine, writhing in pain under its bright lights. That's how he finds her.

"Please... just... _kill me_ ," she mutters, just loud enough for Coulson to hear when he reaches her side. The sound cuts through him in ways Loki's plunge into his heart never could.

“What's this doing to her?” he shouts, urging his team.

It only takes FitzSimmons a moment to figure out how to turn off the machine but to Coulson it seems like an eternity.

He holds Skye's hands in his. She still has her eyes tightly closed, moving her head erratically, and refusing to acknowledge her surroundings. He digs his fingertips into her palms, trying to get her to react to his presence.

"Come back," he says, just once, softly.

She opens her eyes just a bit. When she focuses on him and realizes who he is the corners of her mouth curve upwards. It's almost worse than seeing her in pain.

She sounds like she doesn't quite remember how breathing works, except – 

"Coulson? Coulson. _Coulson_."

 

+

 

"I think you just saved my life," he says, looking at the scratch on his shoulder that could have easily been a bullet in his head if Skye's powers hadn't been so precise.

"Well, I think you viced that versa plenty of times," she says, and they both look at each other like wondering _now what?_

This is an ending, he finally thinks, as he watches the Clairvoyant being dragged by the arms, to be locked away, by the assault team.

 

+

 

He calls her up to his office.

When she takes a seat across from him Skye's face is not the face of someone who just defeated her greatest enemy.

"I know that face," Coulson says. "What's the problem?"

She takes her time to answer, her shoulders going up and down a couple of times.

"There's no problem. It's fine, really. It's just that with the Clairvoyant defeated I guess I'm relatively safe now, and there's no reason for me to stay on this plane any longer. I also guess the reason why you called me up to your office was to tell me that, and to tell me a wonderful new identity was waiting for me in, I don't know, Salt Lake City, or somewhere equally horrible."

Coulson gives her a tiny smile. "Columbus, actually."

"Columbus." She snorts.

She puts her face in her hands for a moment and then stops, as if burned, embarrassed by the gesture. Coulson thinks she looks like she might be about to cry.

" _Skye_..."

"I'm sorry, sir. I promised myself I wouldn't do this in front of you."

Her eyes are bright with tears, much as she wants to hide them from him (and he'll do her the courtesy of not looking at them) and her voice is just horrible.

"What's the matter?" he asks, as soft as he can.

"I don't want to leave," she says, simply, then puts her hand over her face and keeps it there, shielding her expression.

He stands up from his chair and circles the desk until he is in front of her. He wants to touch her face and reaches his hands to do so but he stops himself, brushes his fingers against her shoulder instead.

"I don't want you to leave," he says simply. She looks up. Her face is – okay, he can't do this. He gathers himself in a moment, flattening his tie with the palm of his hand. "We don't want you to leave. You've become part of our team, and if you want..."

He stands up again, goes to grab something from his drawer.

When he comes back to her Skye seems calmer, her expression lighter with his words. She must have wiped the tears when he had his back to her, because her eyes are red but dry.

He grabs her wrist, the palm of her hand open, waiting.

"These don't have much value these days, with SHIELD being history, but I figured you'd appreciate the gesture," he tells her, pushing the item into her hand.

She looks at him, then down at her hand. She opens it to reveal the badge.

"I... don't know what to say."

Coulson smiles: "Welcome to SHIELD, Skye."


End file.
